


Mirror

by Mimm



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Gen, Implied substance abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5561791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimm/pseuds/Mimm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael sees himself in Stephen and tries to help.<br/>Spoilers for Interludes and Examinations [3x15]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Babylon 5 Friendship Ficathon.  
> My recipient was Carly Sullivan who requested Garibaldi & Franklin with confrontation of substance abuse by either or both without a "Just Say No" public service announcement.

Michael could no longer pretend he didn't see things. When he looked at Stephen, he saw his own reflection, and he didn't like it. He had been there himself -- was still there and would always be there -- because he made his decision all over again every single day. He was never sure when his promise for that day would turn into a lie by midnight.

Now the station was going to hell, pulled there by Earth, and Michael's hold on the bottle became tighter. His fingers were wrapped around the dark glass containing even darker liquid, and he could almost smell the alcohol and the spices just by looking at the bottle, and he thought of Stephen holding a syringe. Maybe it was the same for him, only instead of a sweet burn in his throat he was hoping for a pleasantly sharp prickle on his arm or wrist.

One of these days, Michael decided. One of these days he would confront Stephen, but not yet. Not before he knew that Stephen had made his decision and the decision was the wrong one. Michael gripped tighter at the bottle, thinking of Keffer and Shadows and Earth and President Clark, and his gaze was fixed upon the cap that was still tightly in its place, and he thought of the relief that would follow if he opened the cap and gave in. Minutes passed, turned into an hour, and finally he stood up slowly and walked across the room, placing the bottle in one of his drawers.

The bottle was his back-up plan. It was ironic, he thought, how having it there within reach kept him away from it. He had thought about letting go of it, but so far he hadn't had the strength to do it.

* * *

Michael knew he had to ask Stephen now, and as they were sitting there, having dinner Michael had offered, he did.

When confronted, Stephen denied everything. From that one small detail, Michael knew that he had been right. It was the way Stephen denied it, not only the fact that he did. A mirror doesn't lie, and Michael knew he was looking at a mirror.

Stephen promised to cut down the use of stims, and Michael wanted to believe him.

* * *

Michael had given Stephen time, even more than he thought he should have, but even for him there came a moment when enough was enough. Stephen crossed the line and failed in his attempts. Michael was there, in the medlab, and he was watching Stephen as he was shouting angrily at people who had done nothing wrong.

Once again Michael saw himself in Stephen, and he knew Stephen was breaking apart.

Stephen was always kind and wise and patient, but this wasn't the behaviour of the old Stephen anymore. Michael felt like he was looking at someone else, someone he didn't want to look at because it reminded him too much of the things he had done wrong in his own past, and he knew what he had to do.

People rarely learn from other people's mistakes, but Michael wanted to try.

* * *

The door opened and Michael saw the quarters. It was a familiar place to him because he had often visited there. All those times he had been invited, but now he felt like he was breaking in. He wasn't merely visiting. It was almost as if he were trespassing.

Stephen looked healthy as always, and if Michael hadn't known better he would have thought there was nothing wrong with him at all. _Looks deceive,_ he said to himself. From Stephen, it was impossible to see that he was struggling inside, not unless you took a better look and saw him in action, twitchy and nervous and constantly on edge, almost as if about to burst if something didn't go his way. There was a quick moment when Michael was filled with envy -- Stephen was able to take as much stims as he wanted and still look like he had never been better, but when Michael gave into his urges it showed. He could never hide it.

For a brief moment, Michael wished he could change alcohol to drugs. It would make his life much easier. Then he remembered why he was there, remembered that he had to _help_ Stephen, not envy him.

"Stephen," he said, still looking at Stephen's bare upper body. The picture perfect image of health.

"Michael. What can I do for you?"

"I just thought I'd swing by, see how things are going."

They played the game for a while, acting like things were fine, acting like they were only having a casual conversation between friends. Yet they both must have known that it couldn't stay that way.

Michael knew that he would have to take the step. He had to confront Stephen when he still had the chance. When Stephen was still there, listening to him. Whether Stephen would hear him or not, Michael didn't know, but he hoped that he would.

When Stephen mentioned going back to work, Michael knew. The time was now.

"I thought your shift ended half an hour ago."

"Well, it did. But, we're shorthanded, and since I can handle it..."

"I don't think so."

Michael said it and he didn't know what was going to happen next. He had told himself that he would be prepared for anything, but now he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't think you can handle it. I don't think you are handling it."

There was no turning back.

* * *

Stephen would hate him, but it was for his own good.

 _You wouldn't forgive anyone for doing it to you,_ said a nagging voice inside his head, but he ignored it. _This isn't about you. This is about your friend._

His first stop was Lilian Hobbs. With her help, Michael might have been able to get the answers he knew were there, only waiting for him to find them. She wasn't as cooperative as he would have wished, and there were brief moments when he was not sure he was going to get any answers at all. Finally, after persuading her and making her see how big a thing they were talking about, he got it. A way to find the evidence he had been looking for.

Not much later, he was standing by the computer. It would only take him a few moments, a few numbers, and he would know the truth for sure. Inside, he already knew it, but solid evidence was always solid evidence. It would be his last chance to make Stephen listen to him when everything else seemed to be as good as silence.

 _You wouldn't forgive,_ the familiar voice came back, and Michael closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rid his thoughts of the phantom inside his head, but it wouldn't leave. _You wouldn't. Ever._

He couldn't do it, not to his friend who he trusted and who he wanted to trust _him_. Then Stephen was there, and it was Michael who was confronted.

"Why?" Stephen asked, and he had every reason to ask that.

"Why did I do it or why didn't I do it?"

"Why didn't you do it?"

"Because on some level you've gotta know the truth. And after everything we've been through, if you can't talk to me, what the hell is the point?"

There it was, their friendship, splayed out in the open. Stephen had helped Michael before when it had been him who had struggled, and now it was his turn to do the same for Stephen. He knew what it was like, knew what it took from others to make him believe, and even when he also knew that there was a chance that Stephen wouldn't listen, wouldn't want to understand that the others were telling the truth, he had to at least try. He had suffered, and Stephen had suffered, but neither one of them had to live like that.

Michael expected another argument, but instead Stephen admitted everything. Bit by bit, he told Michael what he had done, what he had found out, and what it meant. He was resigned, and as much as it hurt Michael to see it happening right there in front of his eyes -- to see a friend suffer causes pain -- he was glad. Michael had pushed him, but Stephen had come to the conclusion himself. He had understood.

It wasn't over, and Michael knew it. The temptations never went away. But at least there was a possibility of a start.


End file.
